


Ignoring all the history

by girlwithabird42



Series: Once more for the ages [30]
Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: Family Bonding, Family Drama, Family History, Gen, personal closure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:47:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22527304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlwithabird42/pseuds/girlwithabird42
Summary: After a lifetime, Nate's dad walks back into his life, dredging up feelings no one wants to face.
Relationships: Nathan Drake & Victor Sullivan, Nathan Drake/Elena Fisher, Nathan Drake/Samuel Drake
Series: Once more for the ages [30]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1289426
Comments: 2
Kudos: 63





	Ignoring all the history

Nate hardly ever goes into the office, so it usually falls to Elena to occasionally check in on the rest of their production crew. Elena’s skimming emails when the intercom beeps.

“Call for you on line one,” Eve says on the speaker.

“Thanks!” Elena yells back into the hall before picking up; she’s been waiting for this confirmation call all week. “Elena Fisher speaking.”

But it’s not the production contact on the other end; an older, raspy voice Elena’s never heard before answers, “Hello Elena, I’m looking to speak to Nathan Drake.”

There have been a few odd phone calls over the years, overly enthusiastic fans and conspiracy theorists and the like, but it always surprises Elena when suspicious callers make it through to the production office.

“Nate’s not in, can I ask who’s calling and what this is regarding?” Never in a thousand years would Elena have guessed what he was about to say. 

“Thomas Morgan and I’d like to talk. In person preferably.”

Her mouth goes dry as a frigid chill runs down her spine. Her head rejects it for a million different reasons.

It’s a different Thomas Morgan. It’s not a common name, but it’s not an uncommon one either unfortunately. He’s a fraud. This is all some terrible coincidence. But she knows in her heart of hearts none of that is true.

As level as she can manage Elena croaks, “May I ask what this is regarding?”

“I don’t know if you know this, but I’m Nathan’s father.”

“I know,” Elena snaps.

He’s hit an old nerve; Nate not telling her anything, being a complete enigma, no matter how much she loves him. Thomas Morgan doesn’t get to know his son’s faults any more than his strengths, not when he abandoned him.

“So you understand why I’d like to see him.”

Coolly, “Not particularly. I’m transferring you back to my secretary. She’ll get all your contact information. If Nate wants to get back to you, he will, but don’t hold your breath.”

She doesn’t wait for his response and hits the button to transfer the call back to Eve.

Heart still pounding, she picks up her cellphone. Her finger hovers over Nate’s name, but something holds her back.

It’s New Orleans all over again, the first time. The distance and his retreat further and further into himself. Too many phone calls with Sully worrying if Nate would ever snap out of it.

The call isn’t a secret, but she needs a minute; an hour. She scrolls down to Sully, but then scrolls back up, dialing Sam instead.

Praying he isn’t asleep, drunk, or dangling off a cliff somewhere, she mutters, “Pick up, pick up, pick up.”

Thank god Sam picks up after a few rings. Laconically, “Elena, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Elena keeps opening her mouth to talk, but nothing comes out.

“Everything alright? It’s not Nathan, is it?” Rising panic in his voice, “Cassie?!”

“No, no, nothing like that,” Elena cuts him off. Taking a deep, steadying breath, “Your father just called. Said he wanted to see Nate in person. I don’t know for what, but nothing good, that’s for sure certain.”

Dead silence on the other end.

“Sam, you still there?”

“Son of a –”

Silence again.

“Sam?”

A long, protracted sigh, “Yeah, I’m still here. God _damn_ it. I should have seen this coming.”

“No one could have known, Sam.”

It’s been over fifty years since the orphanage, it _was_ more reasonable to think Thomas Morgan was done entirely with his sons.

Sam mutters something under his breath Elena can’t make out. This isn’t the time for Sam’s bad habit of avoidance. _An old family trait._

He lets out a sigh of resignation, “I should’ve decked him in the face when I had the chance.”

“You were a kid, no one expected you to fight him,” Elena tries to reason with him. If years of Nate in therapy’s taught Elena anything, it’s that Sam’s overdue for it too but for pride.

“No I mean like recently.”

Now it’s Sam’s turn to get Elena’s bluntness. “ _When_?”

“Shit. Back when you were pregnant, I sort of ran into the asshole at Christmas mass – he didn’t recognize me, but I sure as hell knew him. I didn’t say anything before because, well…”

It’s considerate, coming from Sam at least. Elena lets out a nervous chuckle, “Is it bad I wish you had hit him?”

“No, because that’s permission to do it this time. You and I can take care of this and Nathan can be none the wiser.”

“Sam…”

Resigned, “We’ve gotta tell him.”

“Yeah.”

Neither says anything for a moment. Even without the revelation that Sam’s seen their father recently, this is why Elena called him and not Nate first: they’d put themselves between Nate and Thomas Morgan first without a second thought.

And there’s no way in hell he’s getting close to Cassie.

“I guess this was bound to happen,” Sam says, defeated. “Let me know when you tell him.”

“You’ll know.”

The past is so very good at catching up with their family. If only it didn’t have to be such a miserable history.

Elena doesn’t get any work done for the rest of the day. She takes the note from Eve with Thomas Morgan’s contact information – still in Boston – and twirls it around her fingers nervously before jamming it in her jeans pocket and heading home.

Cassie’s already back from school so there’s no even starting the conversation with Nate. Elena looks over Cassie’s homework while Nate cooks. She drags her feet on cleanup, listening to Nate and Cassie play in the other room, then Cassie’s grumbling about going to bed.

Elena dawdles further, aimlessly staring at her computer before finally bucking up the courage to do what she has to.

Nate’s stretched out on the bed, still dressed and falling asleep reading.

“Nate?”

“Hmm,” he stirs awake.

“You fell asleep with your glasses on again.” It’s a miracle he hasn’t crushed them.

Elena sits on the edge of the bed, not quite facing him. She almost startles at his hand running up and down her back.

“You’ve been pretty quiet tonight.”

“I suppose I have. Had a lot on my mind.” She swallows, “Nate, there’s no easy way to tell you this: your father called today.”

He laughs disbelievingly, “What?”

“It’s not a joke, Nate. Thomas Morgan called the production office. He wants to see you.”

“Christ,” he murmurs as Elena finally fully turns to look at him, pulling her legs up onto the bed.

“I don’t know why now or what he wants –”

“Money, I’m betting,” Nate interjects; Elena ignores him.

“– but Sam and I can take care of this if you don’t want to.”

“Sam already knows?” Nate sounds so lost and bewildered, Elena’s heart breaks.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve told you first, but I couldn’t bear to tell you over the phone and I needed to talk to someone to help me figure out what to do here.”

“It’s okay,” he says quietly, his face ashen and grey. It’s anything but okay.

Nate grabs Elena by the waist, pulling her close against him.

“What do you want to do now?” she asks, laying a hand against his chest. She can feel his heart pounding as hard as it would after a freefall.

“I don’t know.”

Neither moves or falls asleep for a long time.

\----------

Nate wakes with a jolt. It’s still dark and Elena remains undisturbed beside him. It’s been a fitful rest and there’s no way he’s falling back asleep now.

_Their fucking father called._ It’s an unsettling thought, one he never imaged he’d have to face. Nate made his peace with what Thomas did long ago. _Why did he have to reappear at all_?

Restless, Nate gets up and heads for the bedroom door. Standing in the hall, Cassie’s door is open the tiniest crack; silently, Nate pushes it open.

Cassie is sprawled out on her bed, the dog pressed against her side. Quietly, Nate walks over and kneels down to her level, hair fanned out in her face. He tenderly pushes it out of her closed eyes and really stares at what features he can make out in the dark, praying he sees nothing of the father he barely remembers.

There’s still so much else to tell her, but it’s best not to burden her with this for now.

It’s a slippery slope, family secrets, but Nate’s not sure he’d call it a lie of omission. It’s not a selfish safeguard for himself, it’s for Cassie. All right, maybe it’s for himself as well.

Cassie stirs a little, which makes Nate jump back somewhat, but she doesn’t wake up.

Nate tiptoes out, walking stupefied for the door. There’s a buzzing on the kitchen table; he must have left his phone there at dinner.

A text from Sam. Nate ignores it, pocketing his phone and heading for the porch and sitting down, staring at the endless dark ocean.

The last time he felt this shell-shocked, Sam walked back into his life. Nate hates the comparison but it’s the reality of the thing. Having someone he never thought he’d see again walk back into his life is remarkable.

To have it happen twice – Nate wouldn’t call it luck, but the odds of it are staggering. But then odds tended to work that way for him, good or bad.

Staring into the nothingness of the night sea is only getting him so far. He pulls out his phone and hits the first number in his recent contacts.

“Hey kid, kind of an early morning call. _Is_ it even morning for you?”

Nate glances at the stars, “Kind of up for debate.”

“What’s on your mind, Nate?”

There’s no other way to say it. “My father called today.”

“Shit,” Sully breathes, blindsided as the rest of them. “You tell him to go screw himself?”

“I didn’t actually talk to him, Elena did. He called the show office, that’s how he tracked us down. Said he wants to see me.”

“Fame and notoriety ain’t all it’s cracked up to be,” Sully says wistfully.

“Should have realized some wayward relatives would come out of the woodwork when we started this whole crazy thing, huh?” Nate knows in spite of the jokes, Sully’s as lost and bewildered as him.

The waves lapping at the shore are all he hears for a while.

Swallowing the lump steadily forming in his throat, Nate finally manages, “What am I supposed to do, Sully? I don’t want to forgive him but I also don’t think I care enough.”

“Then don’t kid, but I think it’s kind of horseshit that you don’t care. If you didn’t, you’d be a much different father yourself. But what do I know?” he sighs.

That’s just it though. Sully was there for him, Sully was there for _Sam_. Thomas Morgan was not.

But it’s them and Nate can’t quite manage to say what needs to be said. “Way more than you let on.”

Nate doesn’t catch what Sully mumbles to himself but lets it go.

Audible, “Well whatever you decide to do kid, I’m behind you. You know that, right?”

“Thanks, Sully.” _Oh hell, it’s now or never._ “Will you be there?”

“In a heartbeat. Let me know when you’re jumping, Sundance.”

They hang up and Nate truly does feel calmer.

The sky is slowly, ever so slowly beginning to show traces of light on the horizon, though daybreak is still some time off. The door opens and shuts; Elena hugging herself tightly in a sweater, blearily blinking her eyes. “How long have you been out here?”

“Not that long.”

She sits down next to him, “Did you see the text from Sam?”

“Oh right,” Nate remembers, looking at the forgotten phone in his hand at the group message.

**[Sam 3:47 AM]** I’m headed back, your place or Boston?

“How mad was Sam when you talked to him earlier?”

“He was pretty pissed,” Elena replies. “Just about ready to kick his ass, given the opportunity again.”

“ _Again_?”

Elena sighs, “Apparently, it’s not the first time Sam’s run into your father recently.”

_Right. Of course. Where would any of them be without their family secrets?_

“Well, at least now we can beat the crap out of him together,” Nate says somewhat despondently.

Although she doesn’t argue it, Elena frowns a little.

Nate finally responds to the text.

**[Me 5:21 AM]** Boston. See you soon

Looking back up from his phone, “I talked to Sully.”

“Good. That was going to be my next suggestion, short of your therapist.”

“He said he’d come along for the ride too.”

Elena smiles at that. “Of course he would.”

There’s still a dangling thread.

“You’ll stay here, right?” Nate looks at Elena, pleadingly. He wants her with him more than anything, but Cassie needs more protection than him.

“Whatever you need.” Elena squeezes Nate’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s try and get a little sleep.”

Nate feels anything but rested when the alarm goes off a short while later, but a shower helps.

Cassie pushes back from the breakfast table to go wait for the bus, but Nate stops her. “I’ll drive you in today.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really. We can talk about what’s cool with the kids these days or something.”

Cassie snorts. “Okay nerd.”

“That’s rich coming from you,” Nate tries to tease her. He catches Elena’s eye; she just looks sad.

Cassie does most of the talking in the car, going on about school projects and telling him about her plans with her friends over the weekend, Nate nodding occasionally. She practically flies out of the car when he pulls up to the school.

“Hey, I love you Cassie,” he says as she grabs her backpack.

“Love you too,” she says hurriedly without a second glance before slamming the door shut.

On the drive home, Nate pulls off to the side of the road, unable to hold back the tidal wave of emotions crashing down on him any longer and cries.

\----------

The first thing Sam does when the plane lands is head straight to a bar and down several shots. Not a lot of dignity in it at his age, but who gives a shit?

He checks into a motel, identical to any of the hundred he and Nathan lived out of as kids, and waits for the news that Nathan and Victor have landed.

Restlessly, he clicks his long-empty lighter. If he refilled it even for just the thrill of a spark, he’d definitely go out and buy a pack or twenty; he’s pretty sure no one would blame him for that. _Right?_

After what seems like an age, his phone buzzes.

**[Nathan 8:20 PM]** Landed on our way

Sam’s left to his thoughts again.

He spent most of his life fantasizing about laying Thomas Morgan out on the ground, but when presented the opportunity nearly ten years ago, he can’t explain what held him back. Maybe he’s outgrown his anger. Or maybe he was just caught off guard.

He’s reasonably sure attacking a senior citizen would get him arrested or put in jail, neither of which he’s particularly afraid of personally, but it wouldn’t look good for Nathan.

_Nathan’s sake_. _You’re here for him_ , Sam reminds himself. It’s the only thing keeping him from absolutely losing it.

If this was about himself, he’d be ten years old again, fighting the other orphans, giving lip to the nuns, yelling at Father Duffy. Not that Sam still doesn’t have a few fights left in him, but he’d rather believe he’s grown some since at least the mid-Seventies.

His phone buzzes again, distracting him from his thoughts.

**[Nathan 9:19 PM]** Checking in. What room are you in?

**[Me 9:20 PM]** 257

Nathan’s alone when Sam answers a knock at the door.

“Sully’s still checking in,” Nathan says, pushing past Sam and collapsing on the nearest bed. “What do we do, Sam?”

“Kill the asshole?”

“Haha,” Nathan replies weakly.

Sam’s head is spinning. Now with the time to formulate his thoughts, he doesn’t know where to start. _Why did you leave us there? Why didn’t you love us? Why didn’t you love her?_

“He doesn’t know you’re coming, by the way,” Nathan says finally. “Sully either, for that matter. Eve only technically arranged the meeting with me and him.”

“Good, we’ll get a jump on the dick.”

Nathan casts a glance at him but it’s not necessarily a disappointed one.

There’s a rap on the door and Sully appears, with a look of concern Sam would have scoffed at in his twenties. And thirties. Most of his forties.

“How are you holding up?” she asks.

Sam shrugs, “I’ve definitely felt worse, but you know, not great.” Wishing he could really change the subject, “How’s Cass?”

“Ecstatic to have a girls’ weekend with Elena, as if most weekends aren’t like that, with or without me.”

Sully chortles.

Nathan continues, “She didn’t even think it was suspicious it was me going to see potential investors.”

Sam doesn’t like lying to his niece, necessary as it is; he can’t imagine what it’s like for Nathan.

“Speaking of money, we all know it’s money he’s after, right?” Sam confers with the two of them.

“We’ll hear him out, but he’s not seeing a dime,” Nathan frowns.

“You’re giving him more than I would have in your position,” Victor mutters.

Bits and pieces of Victor’s history have come out over the years, but maybe Sam always knew how similar their childhoods were. Maybe that’s why Sam resented him for so long. Victor always seemed more sure where he stood with his shitty father. He got to stand his ground and make a point; all Nathan and Sam could do was run.

No question where they get that from.

“I can’t believe he’s still kicking around,” Nathan says to no one in particular.

“If there was a just God, he wouldn’t, so there you have it,” Sam says definitively. It boggles Sam’s mind he’s twice as old as mom ever was; that his father still lives without consequence rankles. This is why he hasn’t gone to church in decades, not really.

“It’s not always the good ones that get to live forever,” Victor observes. “I’d know.”

An uneasy silence falls between all of them until Victor speaks up again, “It’s been a long week and tomorrow’s going to be even longer. I think it’s time to turn in.”

He’s probably right, although Sam doesn’t feel like sleeping. His ire has ebbed and flowed since Elena’s initial call, but now on the eve of finally getting to say everything ever to his father, anger sustains Sam.

But Nathan gets up and follows Victor out silently.

“Hey,” Sam calls out just as Nathan’s about to shut the door. “Sorry I didn’t tell you about the other time. It was Christmas; Elena was pregnant, it just…” All his excuses are so lame. “Seemed like a bad time.”

Nathan gives him a sad, half smile. “Don’t worry about it. We’re doing this together now and that’s what matters.”

“Yeah,” Sam says though he doesn’t believe it. “Night.”

Sam waits awhile before bothering to get up himself and stretch his legs. He steps out on the motel balcony; there’s light filtering through the drawn curtains of Nathan’s room; his voice just barely audible, probably on the phone with Elena.

What Sam wouldn’t do for a cigarette right now. He doesn’t see Victor anywhere with a cigar, so Sam’s shit out of luck.

Instead he starts walking aimlessly like he did so many nights after he first bailed from the orphanage; concerned but unencumbered by the responsibility of looking out for Nathan. He wonders if Thomas is doing the same thing tonight. He tries to shake off the thought.

He finds himself in his second bar of the night, but instead of seeking hard liquor fast, he nurses a single beer. He’s so slow, when the bartender says ‘last call’, Sam’s not even halfway done. He pushes the glass away, throwing down some cash and not even bothering with the change, heading straight back to the motel.

His head has to be clear for tomorrow for the final reckoning he’s waited his whole life for.

\----------

No one talks much on their way to Thomas’s suggested meeting place; a dingy looking restaurant. Despite being surrounded, seemingly on the outskirts of everything.

“Yeah, this looks about right,” Nate says, attempting levity, but getting no response from the others. When he looks at his brother, Sam is a sickly grey, almost corpse-like. A shiver runs down Nate’s spine.

_No time like the present_ , he thinks to himself and strides through the front door. He doesn’t look back to see if Sam and Sully are following.

This early in the morning there aren’t many patrons, the place somehow already smells of stale coffee. Nate scans the room, eyes landing exactly on who he’s looking for.

It’s like staring in a mirror, give or take thirty years. The man’s certainly aged from Nate’s recollection – not that he has a strong memory of his father. But the man has no business looking as well as he does at his age.

They make eye contact and it’s uncomfortable to say the least. Both are frozen in place, unwilling to move.

Thomas then looks past Nate, a faint look of surprise dawning on his face. Nate glances over his shoulder to see Sully, scowling with a look reserved for the worst of the worst, and Sam. The closest Nate’s seen Sam to being this angry was at Rafe and Rafe had nothing on their father.

Nate inhales, then walks forward, though he doesn’t sit right away.

“Long time, no see,” he says way too casually.

_Why does he have to be so glib? His therapist will definitely have something to say about that. God, the therapy bills for the coming months are going to be_ steep.

“Your secretary didn’t mention an entourage,” Thomas says with a raised eyebrow.

“There was no goddamn way we were letting you get Nate alone,” Sully says stepping up beside Nate. Nate is reminded so clearly of the day they met. He almost laughs at the idea of Thomas hitting him across the face.

“And you are? Their lawyer?” Thomas asks with the same arch tone.

“Victor Sullivan.” Sully doesn’t offer a handshake. “Just someone who knows your sons a hell of a lot better than you do.”

On Nate’s right, Sam remains silent, glaring.

Slowly, Nate finally sits, sliding into the middle seat. Sam remains on the edge of his seat, ready to jump at a moment’s notice. Nate’s leg won’t stop nervously bouncing. He’s stood with a gun in his face, his own pointed at his opponent’s and this is still more tense.

“So, Nathan _Drake_ ,” Thomas tests the name. “You change yours too, Samuel?”

“Better than your shitty name,” Sam mutters.

Thomas sighs and if Nate didn’t know any better, he’d say it was in disappointment. “Your mother had some rather irrational delusions –”

“You don’t get to talk about her,” Sam cuts Thomas off before he can go any further.

Never mind if this is their last chance to hear anything about mom, but nothing good can come from their father.

“Because you have such fond memories of her? Holing up and leaving the two of you to fend for yourselves? Or the breakdowns and hysteria that made her completely unwilling to listen to reason?”

“ _You_ were never around, the hell would you know?” Sam argues.

“Better than you, son.”

“Don’t! I’d rather pretend to be someone else’s great-great-whatever grandson than your son.”

The funny thing is, try as he might, Nate doesn’t remember those things. Sam only ever painted the rosiest picture when it came to mom.

“I suppose Drake sounds better for television anyway,” Thomas concedes before sipping from the mug in front of him.

None of the wait staff has come to take their order; Thomas must have told them to leave the booth alone. In fact all the waiters seem to pointedly avoiding looking at them at all.

“The show was how you tracked Nate down,” Sully presses, trying to end this as quickly as possible for everyone’s sake.

Thomas seems to actually consider Sully for the first time rather than focusing on his sons.

“Yes, it was sort of unavoidable recognizing the face if not the name on the posters. Although it wasn’t seeing a mirror image everywhere that confirmed it for me.”

“What did?” Nate asks. He didn’t think Thomas one for any intellectual curiosity to look further and farther.

“I finally watched a bit of your show. It was your daughter.”

Nate’s stomach bottoms out and for a moment he thinks he’s going to be sick all over the table, sicker than all this talk of mom. His ears are ringing so loudly, he almost doesn’t catch what Sam says, who can barely control his volume.

“If you go near that kid, I swear to God, Thomas – I’ve killed worse people than you and I won’t lose a wink of sleep.”

“Likewise,” Sully chimes in coolly.

Thomas snorts in disbelief but doesn’t pursue why everything finally locked into place when learning Cassie’s name.

Working against his throat trying to close shut, Nate manages, “Why now? Why at all?”

Nate doesn’t take his focus off Thomas while his father’s gaze is divided between the three of them.

Finally, “Closure. Forgiveness too, I suppose.”

Sam snorts indignantly, “Go fuck yourself.”

“Samuel,” Thomas says sharply. Nate has a flash of memory what little there is of their father, scolding them for misbehaving.

“Guys like you don’t get to ask for that,” Sully butts in. “You’re too self-involved to notice what’s in front of you, you wouldn’t know a good thing if it bit you in the ass. I doubt you’re better off for dumping your kids onto someone else. But hey, whatever makes you feel like a man.”

Thomas stares long and hard at Sully. Nate thinks Thomas isn’t cowed enough.

“Just someone who knows my sons, huh?”

“More family than you at least,” Sully says tersely; Nate’s heart aches in a way he didn’t expect, even after all these years together.

Considering his next words, Thomas stops staring at Sully and focuses on the coffee mug in front of him, spinning it slowly.

“I’ll admit, I didn’t know what to do with the pair of you. Even less than I knew what to do with Cassandra.”

Nate feels Sam tense at his side, hands balled to fists. Sully’s sitting no easier than the rest of them.

“I didn’t want the responsibility of you both after all that and I convinced myself you’d be better off with the nuns than any relatives who would be angry about what happened with her… death. It seems I was correct.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Nate says in a low voice. Building steam, “We weren’t better off. We were lost and angry after you left us. Good or bad, you don’t get any credit for how we turned out. If closure’s all you want from this, fine. Here it is: neither of us wants to see you again.”

It’s hard to get a read on a man he doesn’t know, but Nate’s sure he sees a flicker of regret on Thomas’s face.

“If that’s what you think is best.”

“We do,” Sam says curtly. “Goodbye.” He storms out.

“Come on, kid,” Sully says, pushing Nate somewhat out of the booth seat. Nate can’t look back at his father.

Outside, blinking against the morning light, Nate spots Sam already across the street and trying to contain his silent, shaking anger.

Nate buries his hands in his jean pockets, “At least he didn’t ask for money.”

Sam laughs bitterly, choking back a sob. That’s the difference. After all the heartache and anger, Nate feels liberated. He never felt that strongly about Thomas Morgan and now he’s free. Any lingering anger Sam has is his own cross to bear.

They stand there, both wanting to move and yet unable to.

“Let’s get out of here,” Sully says gruffly, ushering them away from here. Any direction so long as they’re away from here before Thomas emerges.

“I’m sorry you boys had to do that,” Sully says, extracting a cigar from his pocket. “Proud you managed it though.”

Sam stares at the ground, but Nate considers Sully.

They don’t say it enough, or at least Nate doesn’t: he’s so grateful Sully overcame the chip on his shoulder. He never asked if Sully had to do the same with his father, if he got the satisfaction of throwing a punch or the sting of a last word. He should, but they don’t have to talk about it now. Maybe once the dust has cleared, then they’ll talk.

His heart’s been pounding like a hammer since he woke up from a fitful night’s sleep and finally, it begins to slow. Nate thinks about how good it will be to go home to Cassie and Elena.

\----------

It takes a few hours of being in the air for anyone to talk, much less crack a joke.

“Well that was a completely unsatisfying breakfast,” Nate says as Sully glances back from the cockpit.

“Asshole’s still cheap as ever,” Sam says bitterly, but there’s a flicker of something on his face.

“Right? I’m starving.”

“We’re going to have to stop to refuel, so lunch is on me,” Sully offers.

The faint smile Nate had falters, Sully’s stomach flips.

He’d do anything for the kid – and Sam at this point too – but nothing, not even his own history could have prepared him for what a strange experience this all has been.

There’s no doubt Nate and Sam are related, but seeing Nate and his father together spooked Sully a bit. No matter what Nate’s disavowed, there’s still something he can’t escape.

The last time Sully spoke to his father, he was eighteen. Despite how pissed the bastard was that Sully was off to the Navy, it was strangely the most civil conversation they’d had in years.

The last time Sully saw his father, he was twenty-seven and the old man was in a casket. He went to the funeral because his mother insisted, but Sully didn’t say a word throughout the whole ceremony.

Sully clears his throat, “Well, it was a hell of a thing you two did and I’m proud of you both.”

They mumble their thanks and all three of them fall into another prolonged silence.

They grab a bite while the plane refuels, discussing Nate and Elena’s upcoming expedition; the open question if Sam is joining Chloe and Nadine on their next gig.

“I’m gonna stretch my legs a bit before we get going again,” Nate says as Sully handles the check.

“Me too,” Sam says, pushing back from the table.

They must have had some nonverbal agreement during the flight Sully didn’t catch, watching them as closely as he has been.

“I’ll be back at the plane.”

Hanging out by the plane, Sully gives Elena a ring as he lights up a cigar.

“I suppose Nate filled you in.”

Elena chuckles, “You know Nate. It was vague, but it’s probably better to talk about all this in person.”

“Probably.”

“How’d it look on your end?” she asks tentatively.

“He did good. Both of them. Stood their ground and let him know on no uncertain terms they wouldn’t be seeing him again and that he wasn’t going to see a penny.”

“At least there’s that much. Any sense why now after all these years?”

“A couple guesses, but age makes you do funny things,” Sully ponders.

“Hey, don’t compare yourself to him,” Elena says with the fierce protectiveness Sully knows and loves so well.

“Now you’ve got me blushing. Anything for you, darling.”

“Anything, huh?” Elena teases lightly. “You and Sam fancy a visit out here for a bit?”

“You don’t think the whole thing’ll look suspicious to Cassie?”

“I’ll figure out something. I just don’t think any of us should be alone right now.”

Sully spots Nate and Sam returning across the airfield. “Now that you mention it, an old foagie like me could use some time in some place warm. See you soon.”

To Nate, “Cancel your flight home, kid. We’re all going to Hawaii.”

Cassie is nothing but ecstatic when they arrive; Elena did her job well covering their tracks.

“He just piled us all in his plane and took us hostage,” Nate jokes easily, Cassie dangling on the edge of Nate’s armrest.

“Sounds fun. When do I get to learn how to fly for real so I can do that?”

Sully catches Elena rolling her eyes, but Nate only looks at Cassie with tenderness.

“Give it a couple more years and we’ll talk about it.” Nate tilts Cassie slightly to wrap his arm around her and kiss her on the top of her head.

Everything and everyone be damned – Nate’s Sully’s son and he couldn’t have asked for a better one.

\----------

Nate has a lot of different worries sending Cassie off to college.

“You _sure_ you don’t want to go to an Ivy League? You’d totally get in.”

“Dad, they’re not necessarily all they’re cracked up to be.”

“Let her do what she wants to do, Nate.”

Then she keeps looking at schools that are further and further away.

“There are good schools that are closer.”

“I’m pretty sure you’ve been to every corner of the planet at this point. You and mom can handle a few flights.”

Despite all his worries, of course college is inevitable for Cassie; Nate would frankly be more concerned if she skipped it.

He cannot stop bragging to everyone about all her acceptance letters, but she’s going to her first choice.

“Boston College, huh?” Sam says when Nate proudly informs him. “I’m pretty sure that’s where mom went.”

Despite his parents being on his mind touring schools in the city, it’s a sucker punch Nate didn’t expect. Of all the coincidences in the world, it’s only fitting Cassie goes where Cassandra went; where Nate couldn’t.

Nate quietly kept tabs on Thomas Morgan for a few years until an obituary laid any fears to rest that he or Cassie might be haunted by his father.

Moving Cassie into her dorm, Nate can say he actually looks forward to coming back here again.

**Author's Note:**

> The ~drama~ of it all lol. I genuinely would love to revisit more of Cassandra one day though because I am predictable.


End file.
